A Stroll Poem by Vilius Vai

Decided to stroll, this cursed path of world
No matter if we're gone, we won't be coming home
The first steps like a bless, could care less what is next
Yet Day is almost done I fell we're not alone
Destination is uclear I soon begin to fear
My doubts were true, the road keeps turning gloom
It narrows and it looms, I fear it's our last blues
We madly start to run the direction is none
Amongst the shadows of the night I see a pair of eyes
They're ghostly green, followed by the horrid scream
The foul stench it bares, (it is our fear)
In the distance, we see the light coming existance
Don't ever want to walk this cursed path of word